Schedules, Support and Flying Solo

“I can always tell when you see Dr. I. or Diane.”

Dave shares this observation with me after spying the organic turkey, prepared salmon burgers and fresh hummus in the fridge—purchases from Whole Foods, the organic market located just one mile from both Max’s psychologist and speech therapist.

“You should know when I see them because you should know the schedule,” I said. “You walked right into that one.”

I have no complaints about being the parent to take charge of the doctor appointments, therapy schedule, school meetings and such. I have a more flexible work schedule and, truth be told, I’m a control freak; even if Dave offered to help out with this stuff, I wouldn’t trust him to ask the right questions or give me a full report. All I ask is that he keep up with our comings and goings, ask about our appointments from time to time and show interest in what we’re doing.

I know this is a common scenario in many families—with or without special needs kids. One parent tends to take on more kid-related duties. That’s just the way things work out. And that’s fine. But it’s not like we’re divying up who does the dishes and who does the laundry. Hell, Dave’s more likely to ask me if I picked up the dry cleaning than how our latest appointment with Max’s shrink went.

I don’t want to beat him up (too much). I know there are plenty of other families with similar arrangements and equally frustrated spouses. It’s just that taking care of kids with issues is physically exhausting and mentally draining. My brain is constantly trying to process new studies, evaluate the latest report from the newest doctor we’ve consulted, read—and retain—the latest book on ADHD, and determine if the new medication we’re trying is working or not. It’s too many balls to juggle on my own.

I just want to know Dave’s there to catch them—and me—when we fall.